Omega Mecha
by martyred goddess
Summary: Carrisa has returned from her mission. But she does not know what the mission was or anything else about it. Meanwhile Angel City is slowly falling towards oblivion....
1. Prologue

Deep underground, where rats fear to go and not even the cockroaches tread, a man worked in the pale green light of test tubes. Each test tube had something growing in it. They looked like small children. The man sat at his little table, scratching away with his pencil. He sighed, almost exasperated. He rose from the table and walked to a test tube. He peered in at the growing experiments. One of them began to wiggle. The man smiled and tapped the glass, almost like a father in a maternity ward. Once again, the man turned and walked.   
  
He passed through a door, down a dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing as his feet struck the stone floor. The man stopped and opened a door, gazing inside. In the room, there were two steel slabs. Laying on one was a woman and the other, a man.   
  
The man returned to his lab.   
  
He sat down at his table and returned to writing. As he did, he thought about how beautiful Sergeant Carrisa Hartford looked, lying on that metal slab. 


	2. Flashes

Carissa sat and watched the kids playing in the park. Angel City was a beautiful place. She was glad of the move from Raccoon. There had been no contact with the Raccoon City branch of the S.T.A.R.S. for the past few weeks. A team had already been dispatched to Raccoon to see what all the trouble was about. Carrie sighed as she looked at her watch. She had to go to a board meeting and had to change.  
  
When she stepped into her apartment a few blocks away, Carrie saw a sight that made her smile. Brian was asleep on the couch, the TV blaring ESPN. He had broken up with that bitch Lila almost a month ago. She had been standing in the room when it happened. Brian had told her it was over and then...then, what had happened? Carrie tried to recall the events of that day as she changed into her business suit. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing came back.  
  
Outside, Carrie hailed a cab. When she got in, there was a newspaper on the seat. The article on the front page was about the Umbrella Institute of Science and Research. Carrie suddenly had an image of peeling a face off a boot flash before her eyes. She froze. What was that? "Hey lady!" came a voice. Carrie snapped back to reality. Then she realized that she was only half way inside the cab. "Hey, lady," said the driver, "are you gonna get in or what?" "Oh, yeah, sorry." She replied sheepishly.  
  
When they arrived at the building, Carrie paid the driver and got out of the cab. She pushed her way through the doors and got in the elevator for the 15th floor. She entered the board meeting and sat down. But Carrie barely noticed doing these things because all she could think about was the flash she had had in the cab. Suddenly a string of images flashed before her eyes:  
  
Vencor and a blonde man she didn't know shaking hands, a blood covered floor, Lisa being pulled into a crowd of people, screaming.  
  
Then she fainted. 


	3. Jealosy

While she was in the hospital, Carrie had a lot of time to dwell on the images.  
  
Almost the whole of the Omega team visited her: Anya roared up on her motorcycle, dressed from head to toe in black leather, Sam and Mike came together, twitching all the while and Brian was always with her. Finally, after a week in the hospital, taking blood samples and running tests, she went home.   
  
That night as she curled up in bed she had a strange dream. She was on a boat and could see Angel City. There was a terrifying (Rival) creature with the blonde man from her visions in its mouth. She killed the creature, then she was laughing, and then she was in someone's arms holding them tightly. Then she woke up.  
  
The next day Carrie spent shuffling around the apartment in her Pjs. Just as she was dosing off in front of a cheesy soap opera when the phone rang. It was Amber. "I'm so sorry we didn't visit you in the hospital, Carrie!" she said. "What do you mean 'we'?" Carrie asked. "Oh, me and Kevin. We're engaged!" Amber squealed in delight. Carries stomach clenched. 'Why am I so...jealous?' she thought.  
  
"You there, Carrie?" Amber said. "Can I call you back?" Carrie responded. Without hearing her answer she hung up the phone. Then Carrie collapsed onto the sofa and sobbed. 


	4. Eavesdropping

The next day Carrie called Anya and asked her if they had ever been on a mission with a bloody floor? "No. Why?" "Oh, no reason." Carrie didn't talk about it any more.   
  
She went back to work the next day. She had a meeting with the director of the S.T.A.R.S. Rick Steel. As she approached the door, she realized that the director was speaking with someone. Before she backed away from the door, the words 'T-virus' caught her attention though she had never heard of it. "So then there's been a spill in the city?" came the director's voice. "Yes." Came the other voice. It was sharp and nasty. "No one can know about it. The area is being quarantined as we speak. But right now that isn't the important thing. Is she regaining her memories?" "I don't think so," came Steel's voice again. "She was hospitalized for a seizure she had in a board meeting last week." "That might have something to do with it. Question her. The other one's memories cannot be regained unless he comes in contact with her. Keep them" At this point Carrisa turned and ran for the elevator and jumped in. Her hand was clapped over her mouth. She sobbed quietly. Her memories, part of her identity, had been taken. But what part?  
  
* * *  
  
The conversation in Rick Steel's office continued, despite the departure of the unknown listener. "I used one of them to distract the man and the woman has her dead lover back." The man with the cruel voice said. "Keep them away from each other at all costs. But," he paused, "in case you are unable to do this, there is a failsafe. A T-virus rage, that is activated when there is suspicious behavior on the part of the original...... 


End file.
